Strength
by Hathor
Summary: Aragorn turns to Legolas for strength as they wait and prepare to wage battle at Hornburg. * Warning: Slash


Title: Strength  
Author: Hathor  
Feedback: LadyRaistlin@hotmail.com  
Rating: R  
Classification: Lime  
Pairing: Aragorn/Legolas  
Category: First Time  
Date: January 2003  
Status: Complete  
Setting: Movie!The Two Towers  
Archive: Please ask first  
Home page: http://www.squidge.org/~hathor/  
  
Disclaimer: Sadly these characters are not mine.  
  
Summary: Aragorn turns to Legolas for strength as they wait and   
prepare to wage battle at Hornburg.  
  
Notes: Thanks to Michelle for the beta. This is my first attempt  
at writing for this fandom. Therefore any scraps of feedback would   
be greatly appreciated, especially with characterisation.   
  
  
  
* Strength *  
  
  
Legolas sat in the flickering shadows, his skilful hands fletching,   
allowing curls of silk thin wood to drift to ground. He listened to   
the dull echoes of fraught activity above with the patience of one   
born immortal. Within this melee of sound, one such noise sounded   
out with regular measure.  
  
"Pacing will not hasten the passage of time," he said calmly, tipping   
his head to regard Aragorn.  
  
Hooded eyes flashed as the Man slid his sword from its scabbard,   
testing the draw before letting the weapon slip back into its   
casing.   
  
"There is so much to be done and yet not time enough to do it. This   
inactivity chafes me, Legolas!" Aragorn's fist sounded upon the   
stonewall of the ancient citadel in frustration.  
  
"The hour will be here soon enough, my friend," the Elf remarked in a   
gentle tone. "Do not invite death to walk our walls before time."  
  
Aragorn ran a bloodied hand through his unkempt hair. "They come,   
Legolas. Darkness and evil march upon Helm's Deep." The Man turned   
around to face his friend. "I fear Theoden may not be the King he   
once was. Many look to me to lead them into battle, or at least to   
ratify the orders of their king," he said in a half-whisper.   
  
Legolas' sharp knife disappeared with a flick of nimble fingers; a   
half cut feather fluttering forgotten to the floor as the Elf stood.  
  
"Many would gladly follow you into the darkness, Aragorn, even if   
they know not why."  
  
"I do not ask for this!" came the pained reply. Aragorn turned to   
look at his friend, his voice dropping to a whisper. Eyes filled   
with anguish fixed upon Legolas. "I am not their king nor their   
leader. Who am I to command so many men to their deaths?"   
  
A swift pale hand closed over Aragorn's sleeve, a gesture of   
reassurance from the Elf. "Death will come to many tonight, Aragorn,   
whether you command it or not. Will you not strengthen them with   
your words and actions? They look to you to tell them that this   
battle is not a forlorn hope."  
  
"Hope is the only thing we have left." Faith tinged with desperation   
filled Aragorn's words.  
  
"Then give it to these men. Imbue their souls with it, steady their   
sword arms and harden their hearts. I was wrong to doubt before that   
hope was not enough. This strength to stand up to be a leader and a   
king runs deep in your blood, Aragorn. I know this and I know you."  
  
Aragorn sighed. "I think that deep down I fear that I may not be   
equal to the task, Legolas."   
  
"I know, my friend. Would that I could help you in this and in all   
things."  
  
"Your mere presence aids me, Legolas." A faint smile appeared on   
Aragorn's face. "As does that handsome bow you carry."  
  
Legolas' elegant hand flowed up Aragon's arm to grasp his shoulder   
and he gave a rare smile. "Then it is a fine partnership we make."  
  
A darker hand covered the Elf's pale one, fingers curling around the   
archer's palm. "It is a partnership that I value greatly, above all   
others. That much you must know." Aragorn's voice was low, pitched   
only for the sensitive ears of his friend.  
  
"As do I," came the soft reply.  
  
Aragorn's hand gently lifted Legolas' hand, intertwining their   
fingers as he brought it to his side. His free hand lifted to slide   
along the Elf's jaw to tangle gentle in the golden braids of his   
hair. Legolas leaned into the intimate touch, his eyes watching   
Aragorn with an intensity that the Man had not seen before.  
  
"Prince of Mirkwood," Aragorn muttered in veneration. "My strength in   
the darkness that surrounds me."  
  
In an instance Legolas had freed his ensnared palm, his hands   
enclosing around the Man's face as he pulled Aragorn's lips to meet   
his own.  
  
The kiss from Legolas seemed to first shock and then warm Aragorn to   
the core. His arms encircled the Elf, snaking beneath the bow and   
quiver to pull the slender form against him. Belts and metal chinked   
against each other, but they went unheard by the pair. The sweet   
taste of Legolas and Aragorn's dark earthen scent seemed to increase   
the potency of the kiss for them both. Lungs laboured and tongues   
pursued.  
  
A tug on Aragorn's hair forced them apart, causing the Man to arch   
his neck slightly. Legolas took no hesitation as he bent to feast   
upon the bearded skin. Deft fingers sought out the fastenings of the   
Ranger's tunic as Legolas drove them backwards to the nearest wall.  
  
"Gods Legolas!" came the rough exclamation as cool fingers explored   
warm skin. Aragorn felt the lips pause and curve against his skin.   
The smell and taste of the Elf invaded his senses, accelerating his   
desire. Soft braids caressed across his exposed chest before   
delightfully punishing lips kissed him once more.  
  
"You will rob me of my wits, Elf," he said hoarsely, pulling Legolas   
closer to him. The action caused hardness and heat to clash   
together, a groan issuing from both of them. This was an intoxicating   
chalice of which they could both drink oft and drink deep.  
  
"I give you one more reason to live, Estel," came the low murmur, as   
bow and quiver hit the ground, quickly after followed by Aragorn's   
sword and cloak. Then with a tenderness laced with urgent desire,   
Legolas urged Aragorn to the ground to give his love freely in the   
short time that they had. It was a union borne of love and   
desperation. Two halves brought together and forged closer yet,   
binding heart, mind and soul.   
  
  
*  
  
  
As the arrows rained down from the sky and swords rang out their   
angry bites, the Heir of Gondor stole a look across to the Elf Prince   
by his side.   
  
Their eyes locked and for an instance Aragorn found solace and   
strength amid a field awash with blood.  
  
  
* The End * 


End file.
